


all of my love for you (cuts me like barbed wire)

by jishfish



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Loves Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Late at Night, M/M, POV Billy Hargrove, Slow Dancing, Tenderness, Tension, everythings the same except they have phones, kinda a song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jishfish/pseuds/jishfish
Summary: Steve steps closer and outstretches his hand. “Slow dance with me.”Just like that. Uttered into the air between them like it was nothing. Like it was just something he could ask of Billy. Like it wouldn’t ruin him if he said yes. As if Billy had the option to say no to him.He takes his hand.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	all of my love for you (cuts me like barbed wire)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've written and completed in a year.  
> i'm just really happy i got it out. also my first harringrove. i hope you like it.

The kids look like they’re the remnants of a bomb going off, their bodies haphazardly strewn across every surface in the Byers living room. Max’s arm hangs off the arm of one couch as she snores, half of her face covered in her tangled hair. Lucas’ head is knocked back against the edge of a chair beside her and Mike is lying against a bookcase with only El’s head in his lap and a guaranteed crick in his neck for when he wakes up.

Will was the only sensible one who had moved a table and dragged out pillows and blankets from his room to spread out on the floor for him and Dustin.

It wasn’t even a question for them all to come back to Will’s house. None of the kids could even fathom having to sleep alone after the events of tonight. Hell, after the last few years.

All of them are covered in dirt, scraped up in one way or another, and have exhaustion settled deep into their bones. Steve didn’t even tell them to shower once they got back, just raided the Byers’ cabinets for some food to make sure they all ate and then let them sleep.

Billy pushes himself off the rickety chair against the wall with a soft groan, his muscles protesting at the movement. He eyes the ground as he makes his way around the sleeping children, trying to be wary of his heavy footing. He stops in the threshold to the kitchen, letting his shoulder rest against the wall.

 _It’s cause my leg hurts like hell_ he thinks.

Not because he sees Harrington with his back turned to him.

He has his hands braced against the edge of the kitchen sink, staring out the window with a towel thrown over his shoulder. It seemed that Harrington hadn’t even moved from his spot by the counter, even hours after the kids were fed and the house had practically fallen silent.

Billy watches him for a moment. He seems frozen, his knuckles white as he stares out the window. Its like he's searching for something out there in the emptiness. His shoulders don’t even seem to move when he breathes.

“Hey,” Billy greets gruffly. His voice already felt raw.

Harrington’s biceps tense as he grips the counter tighter for a split second before he’s turning and facing him. His eyes are wide, almost panicked at Billy’s voice. Or maybe its his presence altogether.

With being back in the Byers’ kitchen again, facing the guy who’s concussed him several times in that very room, all after the brutal night they had all just shared? Billy wouldn’t blame him for being a little jumpy.

“Hey.” Harrington’s voice is easy, but as he turned to face him, he nervously went to wipe his hands of nothing on the kitchen towel over his shoulder.

Billy makes sure to keep his own voice even. “You alright?”

Harrington starts to slowly walk towards him, like he's reluctantly being dragged into his space. He wipes his hands on the towel again.

“Yeah, yeah.” He breathes. “Just can’t sleep.”

He furrows his eyebrows at the ground for a moment before he’s looking up at Billy. “How are- How are you doing? With all of this?” His hand gestures weakly in the air.

Tonight had been the first night that Billy had seen one. The _gorgamon_ or whatever the fuck it was that Max and the kids went on about for a few hours before they had made their way into the woods.

The only reason Billy was brought on board was because they knew he could fight and apparently needed all the help they could get. Harrington had handed him a tire iron and an extra jacket ( _for protection_ , he’d said) and they all saddled up in the car and drove off into the night. No matter how much talking the nerds did, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Billy remembered hearing Max mutter to her radio sometimes, whispering before she noticed him standing there and got up to shut her door. Middle school bullshit, he figured. When he saw the real purpose of her radio tonight, his gut twisted as he thought back to how many nights she had been using that thing since they moved.

“It’s batshit insane, Harrington.” He laughs, pushing himself up off the wall, trying not to grimace at the soreness in his shoulder. “How long you known about this shit?”

“Steve.”

Billy looks at him. “Huh?’

“It’s Steve.” He smiles weakly, just the slightest upturn of his lips but it was genuine and Billy believed it.

“You helped us kill a fuckin’ monster today. I think we’re on first name basis.”

Steve’s smile grows wider and Billy looks away, failing to force down his grin. He tries chewing on his cheek to at least lessen it. “Yeah, alright.”

“And, for a while now. Since junior year.” Steve says, jutting his hip out to rest it on the opposite wall in front of Billy, his arms crossed.

“You fuckin’ serious?”

Steve raises his eyebrows and sighs.

“Shit.” Billy whispers, shaking his head. “And the kids?”

“Even longer. They knew before me.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “But ever since I found out I’ve kind of… just tried to make sure they didn’t die.”

Steve wasn’t meeting his eyes anymore. They were focused on the tile underneath his muddy sneakers. Hiss shoulders were drawn in tight even in the relaxed position he was trying to be in. Billy’s eyes flitted between Steve and the darkness outside the window he had been staring at.

H _e had been waiting._ On guard, ready in case they didn’t really kill it. In case it came back.

Steve was letting everyone else sleep, even _Billy_ , and he just. Waited. Loyal, patient. Even after all the shit he had had to do tonight to make sure they all came back in one piece, Steve was protecting all of them.

 _He’s too good._

It was all Billy could come up with. Steve was too good. Too good to be kept up at night for fear that a bunch of kids he wasn’t even responsible for could die from something that wasn’t even supposed to exist.

“You should sleep.” Was all he said.

“If I could I would.” Steve mutters to the ground, almost smiling at the thought. Like it was a joke.

“Alright, I’ll stay with you then.” Billy says immediately. He crosses his arms, jutting his chin out. Like it was a challenge, like he dared Steve to fight him about it.

Steve finally looks at him. Confused, but those big brown eyes were boring right into his.

“You don’t-“

“You think I can sleep after all that shit I saw tonight?” It was a straight lie. He had been sleeping five minutes before this conversation. “Don’t sweat it.”

Steve looks at him warily, trying to find his intentions, where the motive was. And dear _god_ , did Billy pray he wouldn’t find it. Wouldn’t see straight through him, through his excuse to be near him, his shitty, worthless hope that maybe the two of them didn’t always have to fight when they were around each other. Maybe him and Harrington could even hold a conversation. _Steve._

“Alright.” He whispers finally.

“One rule though,” Billy says as he straightens up and leans over, sneaking his hand into Steve’s back pocket.

It was cheeky; the cocky, shark grinned Billy that he knew Steve hated and Billy knew how to play up to the ends of the earth. He knows how Steve reacted to this Billy— annoyed sure, but his energy is always focused on how to ignore him. And he loves how Steve always seems to fail.

He’s glad he can get under Steve’s skin just like Steve does to him every second they’re around each other. Sometimes when they’re not too.

“No more silence.” He says as he slips his hand out of Steve’s jeans with the other boy’s phone in hand.

“Hey-!” Steve lunges weakly as Billy holds his phone out of reach. A slight touch to the chest is all it takes for Steve to lean back onto his feet and cross his arms.

Billy focuses his gaze. “You’re thinking too much. Just a little background noise, yeah?”

“I don’t want you playing some loud shit and waking the kids up.” Steve hisses.

Billy walks backwards a few paces as he searches through his music.

He grins up at him. “Don’t worry, don’t worry…” He purrs smoothly. “I’m using your phone so I can play the garbage soft stuff I know you like.”

Billy doesn’t recognize half of the artists whose names were in lowercase on Steve’s phone. From the few car rides they’ve had to share, Billy knew Steve listened to slow music or nothing at all. After tonight, he could maybe understand why.

He grins as he finds an artist whose name makes him chuckle and taps shuffle before shutting Steve’s phone off. A soft, molasses slow melody comes out of the speakers as he sets it on the dining table.

Steve’s face actually softens at the sound. He smiles and Billy can feel his heart lodge in his throat.

“I love this song.” He whispers fondly.

_Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle_

Steve closes his eyes, his pink lips forming the words softly. Billy lets his eyes wander over his face, now that he knew he could get away with it. Steve had lost some of his hardened, nervous edges as the song played. He looked like he was swaying.

Billy almost felt guilty at the swell of pride he felt surge through his chest. It was a stupid, childish thought so he didn’t let himself linger on it. But for a moment, the thought swept past him, letting himself believe that he did that. He had made Steve feel better.

_& I walked across its stage singing with my eyes closed_

Steve hummed. “You’re right, this is better.”

He opens his eyes to look at him and Billy almost wants to dart his eyes to the floor, but knew that would give him away. He faces him head on instead.

Steve looks like he’s softened, like the vanilla cones Billy used to get on the boardwalk as a kid. His shoulders are slumped, hair a messy mound curling onto his forehead, and smile small. Small, but real.

_I’ve got a love for you I just can’t escape_

Steve steps closer and outstretches his hand. “Slow dance with me.”

Just like that. Uttered into the air between them like it was nothing. Like it was just something he could ask of Billy. Like it wouldn’t ruin him if he said yes. As if Billy had the option to say no to him.

Billy rolls his eyes. “I don’t dance, Harrington.”

For some reason, that makes Steve smile just a little bit wider. He takes Billy’s hand that was limp at his side and Billy lets himself be pulled by him.

“ _Steve_. And c’mon. You said I’m thinking too much. I don’t think when I’m dancing.” He whispers, taking Billy’s other hand in his and pushing his arms back and forth slowly.

Steve’s hands are soft. Not like a girl’s and yet not like his. It was _Steve’s_ fingers on his skin, gracing his rough hands and gripping him gently. Billy tries to stare up at the ceiling as if he’s annoyed, but he really couldn’t think about what he would do if he looked at Steve’s face right now.

_All of my love for you cuts me like barbed wire_

He took control of the situation again. “I didn’t think you were capable of listening to a band with such a vulgar name, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” He smiles. “Also, I said _slow dance.”_

He takes Billy’s hands and puts them on his waist. Billy almost hovers, barely letting his fingers skim the fabric of the shirt over Steve’s jeans. Steve brings his arms up around Billy’s neck, his hands clasping behind his head. Like this, Billy could see the inch of height Steve had on him.

Billy knew better. He knew he couldn’t let himself have this. Billy didn’t get things like this. He didn’t get to slow dance with boys like Steve. He didn’t get to be alone in the dark, touching waists and necks. That hadn’t been in the cards since he passed state lines.

Harrington was a dream he was allowed to hold onto when he was alone, a dream he didn’t have to confront because it was never an option, and never would be. Billy didn’t know what he would do with himself if it became one.

“But really, what’s with the name?” Billy asks, his throat tight as they swayed.

He kind of just wanted to keep Steve talking. His voice was easy now, coming and going without lilts of fear or anger. Almost playful. Like they hadn’t bruised their knuckles giving each other black eyes last time they were alone together.

_“Cigarettes After Sex?”_

Billy just nods.

Steve looks to his chest, shrugging. “Well, it’s supposed to like, remind you of the feelings that come with being in love. Like the satisfaction you feel while having a cigarette right after having sex, you know?”

His voice quiets a bit, keeping his head tilted down and gaze on Billy’s chest.“All their music’s like this. Slow, about love and all that shit. When I listen to them, I feel like I’m in a movie. A good one.” He whispers. “They’re really good.”

_I was meant to love you & always keep you in my life_

“Yeah.” Billy echoes.

He felt far away. The music, the closeness— it was the most he’d ever had alone with Steve. At least without a snide comment or shouting match involved. Right now, that part of their relationship felt like it was in another timeline.

He didn’t know where this one came from, but he liked it better.

Steve suddenly rolls his eyes, sliding his arms off of Billy’s shoulders. Billy’s feels panic sear through his chest at the loss. His shoulders tighten, body screaming _no, no, no please wait—_

But then, Steve’s hands are gripping his wrists, picking Billy’s limp hands up and then settling them back on his waist more firmly.

“C’mon, I know you know how to slow dance better than this.” He mutters with a grin as he adjusts him. “What, with all the girls swooning for you around here.” Steve chuckles.

Billy grips Steve’s waist on instinct at the comment, wanting to deny it, wanting to say more, but also making his cheek bleed from forcing his mouth closed.

Steve settles his arms back around his neck and Billy relaxes again. He’d already gotten used to the warmth of them.

_I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight_

“I’m not as much of heartbreaker as you were, Steve.” He says with his sharp grin. He’s joking and he’s not.

Steve tugs himself a little bit closer, swaying and looking in his eyes. Billy lets his arms wrap just an inch more around his waist.

“C’mon, let’s not bring up old shit.” Steve says quietly, his face softening in earnest. “Let’s just have tonight, yeah?”

He says it in a way that makes Billy feel like he can’t breathe. He knows he can’t, he knows if he lets himself, he’s gonna let his heart grab the words from the air and run with it without looking back. But Steve says it like he means it. And Billy wants it. Billy wants to fucking believe him more than anything.

So he agrees. _Just for now,_ he tells himself. Just for tonight.

“Okay.” He whispers.

It’s like the last of the mortar between them finally crumbles, the bricks tumbling off and puffing up dust in its wake. Steve presses his chest to Billy’s and wraps his arms tightly around his neck before resting his cheek on his shoulder.

Billy lets himself sway.

_If I abandoned love, I’d be a man without dreams_

He hopes that Steve can’t feel his heartbeat through his chest, because he can hear the pumping of it in his brain it’s so loud. But Steve just feels. Pliant. Relaxed in Billy’s arms.

It isn’t real. It’s a joke— the whole night is. There was no way any of this could be possible. Flower faced, flesh eating monsters and being able to touch Steve Harrington without getting swung at? There wasn’t a way two impossible things like that could coexist.

Steve pulls back enough for Billy to see his face. His eyes are closed as he sways with his arms clutching his whole body close to Billy. It’s almost too much for him to bear. He has to keep flitting his eyes away from Steve’s face, even though Steve isn’t even looking at him.

_I’d rather be out there staring death right between its eyes now_

Billy watches Steve’s pink mouth form the words. His eyebrows are furrowed. They aren’t scrunched up in the way they do when Steve’s confused or afraid or annoyed. He looks like he’s feeling an emotion that Billy can’t name.

His eyelashes are curled against his cheeks, deep hallows beneath his eyes. Billy tries to ignore it, but he can’t. The shallowness of his breath, the warmth in his chest, and the shaky relief he feels with having a closeness he never thought was allowed for people like him.

He tries not to think about it. How intangible this moment is. How fleeting, like it’s just a misty fog he’s passing through, even as he’s living it.

He clutches Steve’s hips tighter, minutely. Enough to feel his fingers dig into the flesh of Steve’s waist, but just light enough that he can entertain the idea that maybe Steve doesn’t notice.

_& I can still hear the sound of you crying through the night_

Steve leans in again, breathing deeply, his nose in Billy’s neck. He shudders at the feeling, the cooling breath against his skin, Steve’s air and wet lips against his neck.

He doesn’t care that it’s an accident, that he knows Steve doesn’t mean to place his face against him like that. He doesn’t care that Steve is just doing this as a distraction, for something to do besides ruminating in fear.

He wants this too badly to even think about how much this will rip him apart in two minutes, when the song inevitably ends and this long, blissful moment solidifies into a memory that will mean too much in Billy’s mind.

_There in the opera house with no one else for miles_

Billy takes a breath, and resigns, looking down and seeing Steve’s body in his arms.

He loves him.

Billy clenches his jaw at the thought. His heart aches at the omission, even if its just in his mind.

He loves Steve, and that’s all there is. That’s it.

And Billy hates that he knows that has to be enough for him.

There can’t be anything more but this literal dance between them. This has to be enough.

_I was meant to love you & always keep you in my life_

Because Steve is going to turn twenty-two and find a girl who’s nice to him and is a good lay in bed. He’s gonna have a cushy job with his father that he hates but he’ll get over it because of the paid vacation time. He’ll have a couple of kids and be a good dad and be happy as he watches them grow up while he grows old with the woman he loves.

That’s the life Steve Harrington is cut out for, and he can’t mess that up for him.

But Billy’s always been a selfish person.

“Can I spin you?” He asks in a hushed whisper, his voice raw with emotion he can only hope Steve can’t hear.

It’s what he’d do with a girl, and Steve is so much more than any girl he’s had to be with, but he doesn’t know what else to do. How to prolong this, squeeze and wring out every drop he can get out of this experience.

So when Steve opens his eyes and smiles up at him softly, he takes his hand in his. Their fingertips glide across each other as Billy lifts his arm, letting Steve’s clumsy footwork wobble him around in a circle.

_I was meant to love you I knew I loved you at first sight_

It’s ridiculous, how the mundane seems so idyllic to Billy. The shabby, yellow kitchen light, the dimness of the room, the quiet whizzing of the refrigerator, how Steve’s foot bumps into a leg of the kitchen table. But Steve’s laughing softly and he looks happy and Billy thinks _screw it._

When Steve’s back is turned to him, Billy pulls his arm down, bringing Steve’s body in close and pressing his chest to Steve’s back. He hears him gasp at the sudden movement, and Billy swallows against his dry throat at the sound. But Steve leans into him, letting their bodies connect and hips touch.

He rests his chin on Steve’s shoulder, putting his other hand on his waist. Theres little movement between them for a moment. But then, they sway. His cheek brushes Steve’s hair and Billy sighs.

“Aren’t you a gentleman.” Steve says softly, a laugh on the edge of his voice. Billy closes his eyes and just moves with him.

He doesn’t think about how he can tell the songs almost over, how this moment is gonna be gone in a breath. He just squeezes his eyes tighter, lets his fingers rub over Steve’s where he holds their hands against Steve’s stomach. He fists the edge of Steve’s shirt in his other hand at his waist and breathes in his dirty, sweaty hair.

Hell, if this was all he could have, he was gonna memorize every part of it.

He feels Steve stop. His body leans out of his hold just a touch.

Billy immediately shoots his eyes open, staring ahead at the doorway. The music was edging out in slowness and he could tell that this was it. He’d have to let go.

He traces his gaze from the doorway, to the tile, their loosely joined hands, and then finally Steve’s face that is now angled toward him but isn’t looking into his eyes. Billy’s nose is brushing his cheek.

Steve’s eyes flicker up to meet his and his expression reflects how he always is with his emotions. Open, clear as day because thats just how Steve is. He’s honest, he’s good. But Billy is shit at reading him.

_I was meant to love you and always keep you in my life._

He has a look Billy can’t recognize again, but it makes his chest tighten, makes the air feel heavy. The moment feels suspended, like every particle of air has just been drawn up higher, drawn taut and made everything feel weighted and slowed down, the room suddenly drowned in honey.

Steve’s really looking at him now. His body turned, their linked fingers slipping as Steve turns enough for his shoulder to be against Billy’s chest.

His breath brushes Billy’s lips and Billy feels the sweetness of it, can _taste_ it. He feels out of control, grounded to a place that doesn’t exist, the only thing real being Steve’s soft, long fingers in his.

He knows he’s staring right where he shouldn’t be. Steve’s lips are blushed and full and Billy can’t have this, he knows that but he lets himself look. _It’s just a look._

Steve is looking down again, but not at the floor, at something else. His forehead knocks against Billy’s softly and Billy thinks he could pass out by how overwhelming Steve smells. Like sweat and mulch and chemical hair product and like everything he needs and can’t have.

_I was meant to love you I knew I loved you at first sight._

Billy could die right here, breathing Steve in, holding him close. He’d be okay with it. Hell, he’d welcome it with open arms.

He feels Steve’s warm lips press against his and he realizes that maybe he doesn’t have to. His head is tilted down to meet Steve and Billy feels his breath sigh out of him. Steve’s gentle, letting his lips move against Billy’s in a way he doesn’t deserve.

The music echoes out around them, petering out into silence, and Billy knows the song is over. But the world has been flooded with a thickness that makes him feel as molasses slow as the song was.

It’s Steve who moves first, twisting around fully and cupping Billy’s cheek before kissing him again. Billy’s sigh is reminiscent of a whimper and he just feels himself surrender, his mouth moving against Steve’s in a way that begs to be known as an _I love you._

Steve’s pressing his hands into Billy’s shoulders and pushing him into the table, his mouth never leaving his and Billy lets him. He’s hot, his lips are soft, and his grip is strong on his neck and Billy loves him, he loves him, he loves him.

He falls into Steve’s touch, letting his fingers sink into his hair and wrapping an arm around his waist, getting impossibly closer. But Steve doesn’t seem to mind, only pulling away for barely even a breath before he’s on him again, letting his tongue press against Billy’s.

He feels Steve’s hand cup his cheek as he presses a hard, bruising kiss to his mouth. Oh, and _dear god,_ Billy relishes in it. The soft pain of it all, the warmth, the feeling of his skin and his hands and his lips.

They’re pressed chest to chest, both of his hands having migrated and are now holding Steve’s cheeks because he’s greedy and he wants and wants and wants to show Steve that he’ll hold him like this forever if he could. Like he’s meant to be held.

Then theres a thud.

Like a shoe hitting the wall on accident, or an elbow checking the edge of a surface while turning.

They break apart, panting, straining for air and Steve’s head is already turned to look behind him.Billy’s hands slide down to his shoulders as he angles himself to see past him.

There’s no one.

Steve turns to look back at him once, concerned, before he lets go of him completely and walks out into the living room.

Billy stays, pressed up against the table catching his breath. He can see Steve, his hands on his hips as his eyes trace the room. He huffs before walking back into the kitchen

He stops a few paces in front of Billy.

“They’re all asleep.”

Billy blinks, taking in Steve’s flushed cheeks and his imperfect hair where Billy finally got to run his fingers through.

“Okay.” He breathes.

Billy’s brain feels fried, short circuited to all hell. So much so, he can hardly feel the dread he knows is beginning to rise up in him. He knows its inevitable, the crash, Steve backpedalling and saying he’s not gay, he didn’t mean it, and telling Billy he’ll kill him if he ever tells anyone.

But Billy’s floating above it all, just staring at Steve. He knows this is how it works. Steve will say jump and he’ll say how high. Because he’ll take whatever Steve will give him.

He turned bitch.

The silence is a deafening ring of nothing in his ears. Steve just stares back at him, his hands on his hips. He still has that stupid towel over his shoulder.

“I like that song.” Billy says.

It’s not a confession, but it fucking feels like it. Billy feels like he’s putting his heart out on the damn line, practically pulling his dick out and telling Steve to get on his knees.

He says the words out into the room so he doesn’t embarrass himself by mumbling out the truth, so theres something for Steve to react to. So Billy will know how to go forward.

Steve smiles at him, his light breaths bordering on laughter.

“Me too.” He whispers.

Billy swallows.

The honey and molasses slosh their way out of the room, dissipating and making the air feel clean. Steve pulls the towel off his shoulder and wrings his hands through it, biting his lip as he does it. It only makes his pink lips turn red again and Billy braces for impact. For the threat of silence or violence that he knows is coming his way.

Steve steps closer, tossing the towel to the table Billy is still leaning on, in the same position Steve pushed him into. They’re toe to toe and Billy sees the deep brown of Steve’s big eyes as they stare at him.

“You wanna hear another?” He asks quietly. Tentative. Nervous.

“Yes.” Billy says without barely even hearing the question.

Steve is in his space again, leaning past him to tap on his phone. A dreamy melody begins again as Steve leans back and moves close enough that their chests touch.

Steve is looking at him, eyes tracing over his face and making Billy feel small. Like he’s a kid again, getting shy with all the attention on him. Steve lifts his hand and Billy feels his chest seize, already feeling the air getting sucked out of the room again.

Steve sees him go rigid and he moves even slower. Giving Billy time to react. To say no.

He wouldn’t. Not when it came to Steve.

Steve’s eyes are wandering his face again and Billy feels the pads of Steve’s fingers land on his forehead, tracing downward across his brow bone and the apple of his cheek.

Billy is feeling too much, he knows he is and he feels like he could cry. So he closes his eyes and tries to keep them behind the barrier of his eyelids. He’d die if he let Steve Harrington see him cry just because he touched him.

Steve already has too much power over him, he doesn’t want give him any more ammunition to load up on.

No one’s touched him so softly, like they wanted to make sure he knew they cared. Billy doesn’t even know if anyone has ever cared in the first place.

Steve touches him like he’s precious. Billy can’t help but think how wrong that thought is. If he’s learned anything, its that thats not true.

Steve’s fingers move to brush his hair back, tucking some curls behind his ear. He feels every pad of Steve’s fingers on his skin, feels them trace the shell of his ear and thumb at his lobe before dragging them down Billy’s neck to rest at his chest.

“Can I kiss you?”

Billy _trembles_ at the words. Their softness, their sincerity. His lips quiver at the whisper of permission and he clenches his jaw harder to stop them.

He nods.

And waits.

Steve’s warmth is against him again and Billy’s lips are kissed like Steve means it. Like Steve wants like he wants.

Billy doesn’t think that’s even possible.

But he lets himself believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> song: opera house by cigarettes after sex
> 
> i wonder who made that noise,,,, i wonder what queer coded character could have walked in on them,,,, hahah,,, also my dad really calls it the gorgamon. 
> 
> happy pride month, thank you for reading!! i hope you liked it!!


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